


Proverbs and Whatnot

by isuilde



Category: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrepentant Fluff, hesitantly rates this M even though there's no actual sex description going on, post-episode 7 S2, sort of??? but not really???, suggested though - Freeform, this was written in an hour i just need to let this out before trying to go to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"With two hands, you cannot hold more than three goblets."</p><p>Post S2E7. Daryun attempts to make Narsus feel better after everything with Shagad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proverbs and Whatnot

**Author's Note:**

> I screamed myself raw into the pillow for the whole episode 7 because it had so much DaryuNaru and I was so excited for the Narsus-Shagad confrontation finally and I'm feeling super blessed now thank you god.
> 
> I hope you'd enjoy reading this!

"With two hands, you cannot hold more than three goblets."

The words sound odd as they're uttered in Daryun's voice, a deep rumble that Narsus feels rather than hears as his head rests atop of his friend's chest. The night is quiet--almost disturbingly so, Narsus thinks, and he breathes out a sigh.

"Speaking proverbs out loud does not suit a barbarian." He raps his knuckles against Daryun's collarbone, before shifting to pull himself away. Daryun's fingers on his bare hip tighten for a second, as if he's debating whether or not he'll let Narsus go, but then they relent, and Narsus draws away. Blankets and sheets slip off his shoulders as he sits up; his hair a curtain that veils his expression. "One wonders where you would have cared to learn them."

He could feel Daryun's eyes on him--alert, attentive, intense. "I asked Elam, earlier."

"Ah," he snides, but his tone is light. "Using my own charge to get blackmail materials about me now, Daryun?"

"I only asked him because you were too upset," the bed creaks and the sheets rustle; Daryun pushes himself and sits up as well, but the distance between them remains. For a long moment, silence falls as if it's their rightful ruler, filling in the mere arm length that separates them.

Narsus sighs reluctantly. "I have the right to be."

Daryun doesn't answer. Instead, the bed whines as he shuffles and rises to his feet, leaving Narsus in the midst of rumpled sheets and blankets. There's the sound of glasses clinking, almost too loud in the dead silence of the night, before Daryun's weight returns to their bed, and his voice, rough with what was left of their pleasure and perhaps a touch of sleep, comes, "Share a cup with me, Narsus."

Now, that's unexpected. For Daryun to try to be tactful--Narsus lets the corner of his lips tugs up. Perhaps it's high time for the barbarian to change a little, after all, has he not been sharing his bed and life with a highly cultured person such as Narsus for quite a while, now.

He turns to see Daryun holding both of his hands out--two goblets in each hand--and a smug smirk slanting over his lips.

A bark of laughter escapes Narsus' throat, startling even himself. He clasps a hand over his mouth, amused as he watches Daryun's smirk grows wider, and shakes his head in exasperation. "And what is this supposed to state?"

"I'm proving that you _can_ , actually, hold more than three goblets with two hands." The golden goblets in Daryun's hands cling against one another, their surface catching the dim moonlight that bathes their room from the window. It's almost hypnotic, and Narsus' hand itches to sketch them. "You just have to have large hands."

With a sigh, Narsus presses a palm against his face. "Please tell me you are not that ignorant that you actually think it's a proverb about _holding goblets_."

"Sometimes you underestimate me so," Daryun's words are almost a grumble, this time. He shake one hand, the goblets clanking now. "Come, Narsus, I'm serious. Let us share a cup."

Narsus stares at him incredulously, but reaches out to take the goblets from Daryun's right hand anyway, keeping them steady as Daryun carefully pours wine into each goblet they're holding. The jug of wine makes a loud thud against their bedside table when Daryun puts it away, and Narsus, amused now, raises both goblets in his hands. "None of us have use for two goblets at the same time, Daryun."

Daryun's smile doesn't slip off. He clinks a goblet lightly against the one in Narsus' left hand, and says, "We'll toast anyway. For His Highness."

"For His Highness," Narsus echoes, and they both toss it back. It's good wine, with enough bite as it slides pleasantly down his throat, sending comfortable warmth across his chest. Daryun lowers his empty cup, eyes soft under the moonlight, his hair a mess of dark tresses over his back.

Narsus tears his eyes away with an effort, and focuses on the swirling wine in the last cup he's holding. The dark red of the wine blends into almost black as he tilts the glass away from where the moonlight falls on them, and he wonders if he should let it drip all over the blankets. Or on himself, over the crook of his hipbone where Daryun likes to tease him with his tongue.

Perhaps next time, when dawn isn't looming so closely.

"I'm alright," he says at last. Lies, a little, but he knows he will be, given time. Shagad had been a dear friend--one he trusted, one he held close, and there's still a part of him that grieve over losing a friend he treasured so, but acceptance will come soon enough. He's not an idle man, and the many obstacles before their Prince will keep him busy. "It's a loss that I have expected, once I realized he was behind everything. It's inevitable."

Daryun exhales, sounding almost wistful. "A loss is a loss," his voice is quieter, now, like he's uttering a secret to the night. "It's a lighter burden if you'd only share it."

Narsus raises his goblets and presses it against his lips, etching a small laugh there. "Does it?"

A hand reaches out, fingertips skittering against Narsus's knuckles as fingers curl around the goblet, pulling it away from his lips. Daryun's eyes find his own, and Narsus' breath catches in his throat for a second as the other man leans close, their noses inches away as they share the air--heat rises, dances on the lines of Narsus' lips, brings with it a wave of _want_ he's now all-too familiar with.

 _Daryun,_ he wants to say, but forgets how. The goblet in his hand falls, the wine splashes over blankets and sheets and bare skin, almost joltingly cold, but Daryun--

"I, too," the words are a whisper, wisps of breath against Narsus' lips, and he breathes them in. "Once, thought that I've lost a friend because he was a stubborn fool."

The bastard. Narsus lets a smile curve up his lips--maddening, he knows, but that is how they have always been, to one another. But this, he thinks, as his fingers find Daryun's arm, gripping firmly, this at least, he would not lose the way he had Shagad. Daryun is not the type to plot behind his back--he'd just shove it right under Narsus' nose, if it ever comes to that.

There is perhaps merit in loving such a brute, Narsus thinks, amused.

"Oh," he murmurs back, brushes his lips against Daryun's own before pulling back an inch, watches as Daryun leans in further to follow. "So you spared some time to be upset over my banishment? Were you not thinking more of the Knight Princess you left behind in Selica?"

Daryun's eyebrows narrow. "Narsus..."

"I am touched, Daryun. I never knew you thought of me so--"

His words is cut off with a kiss, and Narsus laughs at the way Daryun rolls his eyes before pressing back, lips parting and licking into Daryun's mouth, kindling the cackling fire between them, once again nursing desire until it roars back to life, engulfing both of them in heat as they move together, all slick skins and delicious groans and caught breaths. He inhales what Daryun breathes out, etches Daryun's name against bare shoulder, and somewhere in between, a gratitude.

"Thank you."

He feels Daryun's smile against his lips, but more than that, though he loathes to admit so, Daryun is right.

It does feel lighter, if shared.

**\-----o0o-----**


End file.
